The Beginning
by thebrightestbulb2
Summary: Earth recovered slower than expected but the patchwork of survivors return after a 50 year cryofreeze. With low numbers and a silent world, Clarke finds herself tasked again with sacrifice for the good of mankind; repopulation. Bellamy has never left Clarke to bear a burden alone and he has no intention of starting now. Pure fluff. Two-shot.


**Two-shot. Plot bunny. Alternative ending that varies from canon at the very end of season 5. Love the drama of the show but this is writing for the part of me that would love to see Clarke and Bellamy get their Happily Ever After. I have never read the affiliated books; please be advised.**

 **Part one can basically stand alone and is appropriate for a conservative audience but part two is sexually Explicit and mature so you are free to skip if that's not your cup of tea.**

 **This was really kind of something I wrote for myself but I thought I'd share just in case anyone wanted to read some light Clarke/Bellamy.**

 **Not edited by anyone else, at all. Please excuse my typos. I will be posting part two later this week if anyone is interested. It still needs some tweaking. Let me know what you think if you enjoy, if not, go easy. I'm a wimp!**

"Heavy lies the crown", Kane used to quote, but having been on both sides of the thrown room, Clarke could argue that the weight of life changing decisions made for and without your consent was no light load.

She understood the logic in it, of course. The young blonde had always been pragmatic; to a fault, some would even argue. Females made up just a small portion of their group; those young enough to carry a child, an even smaller margin. Time was not a patient thing and biological clocks didn't care about one's desperate need for reprieve. After spending most of her conscious adult life clawing with bloodied figure tips at the slippery edge of survival, she found herself with a hell of a lot less interest in "the good of the human race" and a great deal more preoccupation with enjoying her own existence during the first tenuous months of real peace she had ever known.

Women of the Ark were no strangers to governmental intervention in the area of their reproductive lives, but as her mother had argued on their behalf, restricting reproduction and _mandating_ it were apples and oranges in the realm of ethical violations.

She knew she could have fought it. A vast majority of their survivors and owners of the wombs in question were Wonkru and while Wonkru looked to Madi, Madi looked to her.

But Clarke was so tired of fighting.

They had so very little left to lose but history had proved that even the very last scrap of "little left" could be torched by a single wayward sociopath if hate was fanned into full flame. The valley and some surrounding areas had experienced the kind of regrowth that made it survivable but the beautiful, tall, dense forests were a sight she was unlikely to see repeated during her natural life time and by all indications thus far, the few animal species that had survived Praimfaya had _not_ survived Mccreary.

The thought of Wonkru—who despite being nearly half a century away from the horrors of the bunker, had minds that remembered it like it was yesterday—taking up arms against what was left of Mccreary's men was a bloody vision that Clarke didn't have it in her to see come to fruition. While the former inmates would never live a day free of dislike and general suspicion, they did seem eager to carry the wait of rebuilding the world their once-leader had decimated and the loss of _what could have been_ seemed to lean just as heavy on their hearts.

Ironically it had been their beloved Monty— along with the careful but strong voice of Diyoza—that had proposed the mandate; faced with the thought of the tremendously lonely existence their children would face as the current generation died off without a significant rate of reproduction. Even with their present number of 400 plus souls, some days their world seemed mind-numbingly quiet.

The decision, however, had not been unpopular with the male residents of Earth.

Clarke sensed a darker, very real possibility that her horribly outnumbered gender might slip into oppression under what could be a stifling patriarchy if they were unwavering in their resistance. At least now she was in a position to set her firm boundaries.

And she certainly had plenty of them;

No woman would be subject to mandatory pregnancy before the age of 20. She'd had her precious Madi in mind when setting that standard, of course; who had already grown up too fast in ways Clarke had been unable to prevent.

Though the mandate called for new pregnancies spread a single year apart between the ages of 20-35, a woman's worth was greater than the promise of the child she could bear and no woman would be asked to proceed with scheduled impregnation when the gestation would put her life at risk. With this, she carried thoughts of Harper, who's second pregnancy was wearing hard on her body and bringing forward an early onset of the genetic condition that had killed her father.

While pregnancy was mandatory if you had a healthy uterus to carry, intercouse was _not_. They were still a modern society, despite many falls from grace, and a woman's ability to chose or reject a sexual partner was still one of the very few things Clarke found she was still willing to die for. With this, she had thought of Octavia. Their relationship was still strained, to be sure, but the love she had for her old friend was something that even the worst of betrayals hadn't been able to shake completely. The stunning warrior, she knew, would sooner die and join the murdered love of her life than be forced to lay with a man that was not Lincoln.

There were talks of hand picking biological compatibility in individuals to produce the healthiest, widest variety of genetic diversity from such a small pool of first generation parents. That would be Kane's dream; to wrap their future generations up in a neat, scientifically justifiable package. Clarke had fought for women to be able to chose their mates for themselves. Many couples had long ago paired with partners and Grounder men were culturally disinclined to see their women carry another man's biological child, regardless of unconventional conception technology. If she knew anything, it was that the bonds they had forged in the fires of their pasts were not to be broken.

Lastly, she had insisted that obligation to carry was not an obligation to parent. With plenty of men and slightly older woman capable and eager to raise a child, she felt it arguable that a woman be able to place her child with a safe and loving home if she couldn't see herself as a mother.

Octavia had instantly decided to carry for Miller and Jackson and no one had argued that _The Red Queen_ be forced to parent a child.

The truth was that Clarke had lobbied for the inclusion of this last stipulation for herself. When she looked at her hands, all she could see was a coating of blood that could never be washed away and she couldn't imagine touching a tiny, pure infant with fingers as filthy as hers. Though it was true that very few of the survivors could claim any semblance of innocence, she knew her sins ran much darker than most.

The beautiful blonde took a deep breath and fidgeted with the pen on the table in front of her.

The small space around her was simple but purposeful; clean with a raised cot and a table with two chairs.

The once proud, if not reluctant, leader had never felt so small as she waited for her overdue companion. In front of her rested the Conception Attempt forms, all of her details long ago penned in as she anticipated the unknown male that would scroll his name on the blank line next to the words _Intended Paternal Contributor_.

A clean, clear specimen cup and an amusing little bulb syringe rested on a tray, pushed as far to the side as the small table would allow. The good old turkey baster method was all the technology they allotted for those without previously unsuccessful attempts and she desperately hoped it would work for her. The only thing less dignified than shooting herself up with small syringes full of a stranger's semen would be having her physician mother attempt to impregnate her via the more invasive IUI.

She shuttered petulantly at the thought.

The great Wanheda had stunned everyone by declining to pick a mate for herself. Oddly enough, she had her pick of pretty much every eligible male in, well, the whole world; the male propensity for coveting the revered being what it was. She had told Kane to match her with the most genetically sound male interested as long as he was fine with a non-physical conception and the fact that she had zero interest in his involvement during her pregnancies.

Clarke had wrongfully shunned one man that had loved her selflessly, killed another with her own two hands, and she was so far passed the realm of fairytale romances that she had waved the 6 month allotment the women had been given to find a suitor, had her birth control implant removed, and resolved to get things over with.

If she was being honest with herself, in the very deepest corner of her mind, she could admit that there was one man she would have chosen to father her child. But he was an impossibility and Clarke Griffin was an absolute professional at coping with disappointment.

Her head jerked toward the door as the handle began to turn, her heart jumping into her throat in a way not even active combat had invoked in the past.

Her body relaxed when Bellamy's head of shaggy black hair tipped into the room, cocking a small, uncomfortable smile when his dark eyes found her. Her face flamed and she looked away from his side of the room, suddenly examining the empty wall like it held the masterpiece in her med room back at Mount Weather.

There was one reason for visiting this overly simple medical suite and she didn't relish the thought of Bellamy knowing she was ovulating and impatient. She hadn't told anyone she would be there today.

"Did my mom tell you where I was? I thought this was supposed to be discreet," she sighed.

She heard the door close and frowned slightly when he pulled out the second chair for himself. She rarely begrudged Bellamy's company but her situation felt quiet awkward enough without adding her best male friend to the mix. Bellamy Blake had been a very vocal opposition to the reproductive ruling, she suspected mostly on her's and his sister's behalf, and the last thing she need was him decking what ever poor soul walked through the door to sign the papers and deposit his specimen in the joint bathroom.

"You know I'm just particularly good at finding you, princess," he joked softly, his voice guarded.

She finally turned to meet his eyes and his expression held an apprehension she had seldom seen shape the handsome features of the brave boy.

Clarke reached across the table and grabbed his hand to give it a squeeze.

"If you're here to try to talk me out of it, you should take the matter to upper management," she smiled loftily, "I'm not in charge here anymore."

Bellamy's brows knitted with his displeasure, "You know that's not true, even if you wish it were."

Clarke scowled right back at him, knowing her ire had precious little effect.

"I'm tired of leading, Bellamy. And for all of my experience with it, I never managed to do it without getting people killed," she told him, not for the first time, "Trust me, there aren't enough humans left to survive Wanheda."

A beat of silence drifted between them because they both knew he had once expressed an almost identical sentiment to her. There were still a lot of similar silences between the two once-soldiers who hadn't always been on the same sides of their many wars as friendly conversation triggered old wounds.

She jumped slightly when his hand abruptly left hers and flew to the paper work she'd left out on the table.

"You've marked that you're interested in alternative parental placement," he stated in a tone that sounded more like an accusation. Deep brown eyes shot up and searched her face like they were desperate to see the surprise that would indicate her selection was a mistake.

She snatched the paper from his hands, turning it face down to hide it from his gaze in a way she should have done the moment he'd walked through the door.

"That-," Clarke started, embarrassed by the thickness in her voice, "is none of your business."

She flattened imaginary wrinkles from the white sheet of parchment and tried to blink away the moisture building up in the corners of her eyes.

"You should leave," she said after several beats of painful silence, "Now...isn't a good time," she understated.

She heard the legs of his chair scrape across the ground and for a moment she thought the notoriously stubborn male was actually listening to her. Clarke was surprised to experience the opposite of relief at the prospect of him leaving.

When she felt his chair slide flush with hers and his arm wrap around her waist it was such a comfort to her that the tingling turned to tears. She buried her face into the warmth of his chest and guiltily hid the wetness in the fabric of his shirt.

"Clarke, you're already a fantastic mother," he stated with conviction, running his palm over her long blonde hair like he was stroking a particularly frightened animal, "why don't you want to raise this baby?"

Her reasons felt insurmountable and endless so even she was disappointed when what rushed out of her mouth was a somewhat hysterical, "My fourteen year old is a War Lord and I used a _shock collar_ on her."

Bellamy's warm laugh surprised her, "As someone who has also raised a female War Lord, please believe me when I say that if I'd been able to get a shock collar around O's neck, we'd all have been a lot better off."

The Blake siblings still had a temultuous relationship but Bellamy's love for his sister was too great to allow him to reject her during a time when she clearly needed him more than ever. More than she relied on him for her very survival in those years spent under the floor, she need now the type of unconditional love that could forgive her through her seemingly unforgivable sins.

She straighten herself slightly but still left her cheek to rest on his shoulder, knowing she could barely get herself to say the words loud enough for him hear even from such a negligible distance.

"I think about being with Finn, all those years ago," she breathed, his name resonating like a hot blade in her chest even after all the time that had passed and what felt like several lifetimes worth of additional loss. "And if we had conceived back when the 100 was new to the ground... Bellamy, that baby would have been dead a thousand times over by now, if by some miracle I had survived a pregnancy."

"This is a new world, Clarke," the smooth pitch of his voice tumbled over her, beckoning her to believe the romantic notion, "Everything we lived through, everything others lost their lives for, it was all for _this_."

"I know you think that-"

"I _know_ it, ridiculous girl-"

"-And if I hadn't found Madi, if I hadn't raised her and loved her like she was my own I wouldn't know how much it hurts but it _hurts_ , Bellamy. Loving someone like that. For me, it's just never paid to be optimistic."

She thought about those last weeks they had spent on earth before The Long Sleep and how many times she thought she would lose the beautiful little girl she loved like a daughter. Even now, with the child safe in their recently erected home in a community of people that would lay down their lives for her, Clarke still experienced the shadow of a frantic grief so profound that it felt as though it bleached the strength out of every bone in her body.

That feeling of unsurvivable loss had never ceased to remind her of the Grounder belief that love was weakness.

"She feels like a piece of myself is walking around outside my body and I know that I'd never be whole again if something were to happen to her," she tried to explain but didn't feel she could assign words to a vulnerability she could scarcely bear but would never resent or regret.

"I can't handle the thought of more pieces of my heart out there in a world like ours," she confessed into his neck.

Arms that had battled their way through hell held her like she was made entirely of glass, "You were alone for six years and now you think you have to do it _all_ alone, Clarke, but that's not true anymore and as long as I'm alive, it never will be again."

Bellamy's declaration held so much conviction that she tipped her head up at him, curious and startled.

His face was so close to hers that she could feel each warm exhale fan out across her mouth. Green eyes searched brown so dark it was nearly black and something in his expression alarmed her. Despite sounding for all the world like he meant every word, something inside him looked like it was seized with absolute terror. She couldn't wrap her mind around so much certainty coming from someone who looked so comprehensively uncertain.

The blonde reached one tentative hand up and pressed a tendril of his shaggy mane away from his face, her chest tightening as her eyes involuntary flicked down to his lips.

Again, Clarke found that she was very good at accepting that there were things she wanted but could never have.

She sighed a small, melancholy sound she hoped didn't come across as sad as she felt and gave the problematic, selfish boy who had somehow grown into a loyal and honorable man one last squeeze before pulling away from him completely.

"You need to go, Bell. I'm waiting on company you aren't going to want to be around for," she said softly but with firm finality.

The raven haired male looked like he was going to crawl out of his skin with agitation, his large hands running against his scalp and pulling at the strands in frustration.

"Whoa, it's okay," she crooned, panicked, "I'm going to be okay," she assured him with as much strength as she could put into a lie.

He got to his feet and paced several feet away before turning and leveling her straight in the eyes.

"You don't understand, Clarke," he articulated slowly, "it's me. You're waiting for me."

She blinked up at him, stunned.

Clarke opted to not allow her mind wander.

"You're right," she conceded, "I don't understand. No man is allowed more than one female reproductive partner. They wouldn't have matched me to you if you were already partnered with Echo," she frowned, wondering what kind of game Kane was up to and why it involved ruining Bellamy's life.

His determination didn't waver but he was studying her face like a bug under a microscope, keen eyes filtering her every expression in a way very few people left alive had the ability.

"They didn't match me. I petitioned for you just like everyone else," he admitted, his words like a bomb in the tiny room.

Clarke felt her face heat, "You can't abandon Echo because you think I need saving, Blake," she snapped, "Did my Kane put you up to this? _My mom_?"

Clarke knew that Kane—who was feeling his mortality through poor health after the brush with death that landed him in a 50 year coma—saw her for what she was; someone who could yield a great deal of power. Always a firm strategist, it wouldn't surprise her if he had talked Bellamy into believing Clarke's legacy needed to be kept close to the remaining members of The Ark.

After all, her children would possibly be Natblida and with so many Wonkru survivors, that was likely to still hold clout for decades to come.

And her mom; after everything they'd been through Abby just desperately wanted to see her happy. While Clarke hid her love for Bellamy under layers of platonic friendship, the Elder Griffin knew her daughter about as well as Clarke knew herself.

But Clarke would not be party to anyone else losing their free will, especially Bellamy Blake, who had earned it a million times over.

She remembered how fiercely the Ice Nation female had fought to take Madi to the Dead Zone to rally Wankru and save a stranded, abandoned Bellamy. How different their lives could have been if Clarke had let Mccreary's men kill her like she had been so deeply temped.

The man in front of her would not be alive it weren't for the woman he'd left behind to stand in front of her now.

"Do you have any idea how much she risked for you?" she muttered, part of her amazed at how far she had come from her original opinion of the ice viper who had betrayed their trust to kill dozens of her people at the fallen Mount Weather.

Bellamy was enough like his 100 counter part to sense that he was on the knife's edge off offending her nearly detrimentally strong code of honor.

The proud co-savior of the human race humbled himself, kneeling at Clarke's feet, his hands on the chair arms on either side of her as his voice implored her to understand.

"Echo is family and I hope to God some day she can forgive me for choosing differently," his sharp features twisted with a tangible pain and she could see that hurting the Azgeda warrior had not been a action he took lightly, "And I know her well enough to understand that such a day won't come soon."

He gathered Clarke's stiff, frighten hands in his and held both sets on the denim clad thighs. Even as her mind battled anger and fear, her body soothed in the male's proximity.

"I've given everything, my entire life, for everyone else. My sister, the 100, Skaikru- I'd never regret a single second of any of it and I'd do it all again," he took a manic, half crazed breath, and though his head bowed like it was trying its best to turn away, his eyes refused to leave her, "but for the first time, in this new world, on this clean slate, I needed to try to fight for the one thing I know can make _me_ feel whole again-

I'm in love with you, Clarke."

His face blurred from her vision as tears once again came without her permission, this time thick, unapologetic and impossible to hide. She slammed her eyes shut to clear them but her body began to tremble hard with emotion.

With a slowness that feared rejection, Bellamy cupped her face between his hands like she was something infinitely precious to him, his thumbs wiping away the tracks of tears.

"I know it's not fair to spring this on you but I had to tell you, before I lost my chance forever," he pressed on, "I was scared, always scared.

I watched Wells and Finn and _the Commander of the known world_ puddle at your feet. I was terrified to love a woman so much that I'd die for her, like everyone was willing to do for you without a moments hesitation."

He laughed but it held no humor, just a tangible irony, "But I already did, love you like that. I told myself that I was fighting for my people, for my sister, for my own survival, but when I thought about all I'd lose if I gave up it was this face that I'd see," he cleared away strands of gold that were clinging to the damp of her pale skin.

Clarke was an exceptional beauty at age 24 and commonly admired but she had never truly felt it until that moment; as Bellamy took her in with the same reverence the 100 had felt in their first moments on Earth after decades of narrow grey walls.

"When we thought we'd lost you in Praimfaya, honoring the sacrifice you had made was the only thing that kept me alive, Clarke."

"But you were alive," she finally squeaked out, "for years, you were alive... with Echo."

She fought a wince when her words rang out with a bitter edge, knowing that holding his romances against him when she'd had plenty of her own was the pettiest hypocrisy.

Bellamy swallowed hard but shook his head apologetically, "I won't pretend that what I felt for her wasn't real. Her and I evolved out of a very dark time and she was there for me when I felt... incredibly alone."

Watching her intently, he did something that shocked them both. Bellamy pressed his large, warm palm affectionately over Clarke's lower belly. Her heart hammered under her breast like a hummingbird's wings but she had zero inclination to push him away.

"I just know, that when the majority ruled in favor of the Reproduction Act, for the very first time in my entire life, I let myself imagine a woman who I'd give my home and my heart and my name. I closed my eyes and I pictured her, so easily, like my mind had been waiting my entire life for me to be ready to really _see her_...beautiful, strong and carrying _my_ child," he stared down at his hand in a way that left no doubt.

"And she wasn't Echo."

Without moving away from the conflicted blonde, he reached for the form on the table and flipped it back to reveal its print, "But I don't want to be a _Paternal Contributor_ , I want to be a father, and a husband. I want to forget about what I did to survive so I can finally live, and more than anything, I want to do that with you, Clarke."

The young woman had faced countless unimaginably terrifying situations in her short life— _multiple_ apocalyptic events, the attempted genocide of her people, the murders of so many she loved, her own death so many times over that it had become an inevitability in her mind—but she had tackled them each head on. So she was dismayed that this was the point in time that her courage seemed to fail her.

Hope was a dangerous, fickle thing, and the picture Bellamy was trying to paint for her was something she wasn't sure she could possibly dare to consider. So many times she had anticipated absolutely nothing particularly positive out of life and had _still_ been pounded down by the harshness of reality. Hoping for something so wonderful; the love of one of the only man on Earth she could trust with her life, feeling worthy of raising the children she'd bring into existence, a _family_ of her own.

Hope like that felt like a suicide of the soul.

She couldn't get her mind to form a response as logic warred with heart.

Clarke curled forward slightly as her stomach knotted with anxiety.

As though he could protect her from the very forces of the outside world with his larger, stronger build alone, the ebony haired male pulled her into his arms. He dropped a kiss onto the crown on her head and sighed the remorse of someone who sensed they had made a mistake.

"Look. I know this is...different," he whispered softly, "Different than anything you wanted or planned for. I didn't come here to trap you. Say the word and I'll walk out of here and the man they had lined up for you will walk in and give you exactly what you expected."

He leaned away from her reluctantly and tilted her chin up so she could see a face beautifully sculpted in sincerity.

"If I've learned anything from O it's that you can't force someone to be something that they're not, or want something that they don't. If you don't feel the same way or want the same things...I want to give you what you need, Clarke, even if it's not me.

I'll survive losing you, I always do, but I had to take this chance because I know that's all life will ever be for me without you... _Surviving_."

This time, when Clarke couldn't form the words, it was because her lips were finally pressed against a love worth living for.


End file.
